


Loki Adopts a Pheasant (among other things....)

by a3ndroids



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Gen, Post-Ragnarok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 23:15:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20590724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a3ndroids/pseuds/a3ndroids
Summary: Mild Ragnarok AU.Thor settles into New Asgard with his brother, Loki. He doesn't realise what a reformation of the God of Mischief truly entails.





	Loki Adopts a Pheasant (among other things....)

**Author's Note:**

> All you need to know is that Thanos didn't intercept and the Warriors Three + Sif are still alive!  
Just a fun little quick-paced short I wrote in my spare time.

The return to Midgard had been smooth.

In fact, it had been so smooth that Thor was beginning to feel the inklings of anxiety nip at his heels.

The Asgardians had taken refuge in a small town located in the Netherlands, quickly securing trade deals and allies to support their stay. The houses were modest bricks instead of ancient gold and the rainbow bridge had been replaced with rubble paths; despite the shortcomings, Thor felt quite at home.

He resided in one of the more sightly houses and bunked with his brother, Loki. Loki had been anxious to return to the realm he had previously claimed kingship over, but Thor assured him he would swiftly be put in his place should he try it again.

His close friends, the Warriors Three and the Lady Sif, neighboured him, though they were rarely within their home, preferring to bide their time training or assisting in preparation for their celebration on finding sanction. It was an occasion worthy of a feast, but a feast that was remarkably slow to gather ingredients for.

But it was not the new environment that incited his nerves. It was the way Loki smiled sweetly and batted his eyes when speaking with him. Loki had been obsequious in his contribution to New Asgard, and he could only go so long before he thirsted for chaos.

Granted, they’d both been through much in turn – Thor had no doubt that it had taken its tolls on his brother, and it was distinct in his sharp cheekbones and hollowed eyes.

But they were improving, and with Loki’s ever foment nature, Thor couldn’t help but wonder what trickery awaited New Asgard.

Whatever he had been expecting, it was subverted on the third week of their arrival.

Thor was unsure how to approach the situation. He had woken up in the early hours, brushed his teeth, begrudgingly flossed upon Loki’s insistence, and gone for a leisurely stroll through the town. When he had returned to retrieve warmer attire, he walked in to a variety of coloured feathers on the floor.

Loki, doe-eyed, kept his hands behind his back. “You’ve returned early.”

“Cold,” Thor said, and leaned to the side to view Loki’s cargo. It was a bird; and not just any bird. It was a large, brown-feathered pheasant with a red face and a blue neck. It poked its head over Loki’s hip and chirped at him. He waited patiently.

“I have made a new friend,” Loki offered.

“I can see that,” Thor nodded. “He’s made quite a mess.”

“Yes, well, it is the colder season.” Loki affectionately pet the top of the pheasant’s head. It paid no mind to him. “I’ve named him Volstagg, because he is plump and flightless.”

Thor wiped his nose. “Very funny, Loki.”

It had taken some convincing, and sneezing, to convince Loki that Volstagg would not become a regular household pet. Loki shied away from the idea of keeping him in a farm, “he is a pheasant, not a peasant,” and promised to rid of the shirty animal when he was sure he would not be made into a fresh evening supper.

That night, as Thor crawled into their shared bed and felt an unfamiliar warmth press against his back, he imagined how a cooked pheasant would taste.

**

The following morning, New Asgard had received new shipments of ale and grains. He assisted in carrying them off the port, though the work had felt longer and more tedious compared to usual. It seemed they fared less helpers, Thor noticed.

Valkyrie told him he amounted to at least several workers. Thor was unsure what to make of it.

The pheasant Volstagg had disappeared when Thor had left, along with his prevaricating little brother. He assumed they had wandered off to pick at women’s hair, or place spots of rust on Sif’s equipment.

“Thor!”

He stopped at the door of their home and whipped around. Loki strode towards him, holding a small and fluffy animal in his hands. Upon closer inspection, it was a golden weasel with a clear-cut white face. It squeaked at him innocently. Loki had a wide grin on his pointed face.

“Replacing Volstagg so soon?” Thor kept his eyes on Loki while he opened the door.

“No, no; I have teleported him into the home. I hope you’ve closed the pantry, might I add.” Loki rubbed the weasel’s back with his thumbs. “Won’t you ask me what I’ve named this one?”

“No,” said Thor. He went inside.

The weasel joined them for dinner that night, while Volstagg occupied the bed. It picked at Loki’s vegetables and shedded on the plates, but his brother didn’t seem to mind. Thor came to learn that Loki had named it Fandral, on account of its pale fur and long face.

“I’m surprised you did not name it Loki,” Thor said around a mouthful of steak, “you are quite the weasel yourself.”

Loki frowned at him and held Fandral to his chest, like a teddy to a child. He widened his eyes and pouted his lips.

Thor was not phased in the slightest. “Do you think they’ll take kindly to your slander?” He continued and placed his fork down.

“Oh, no,” Loki scratched the weasel’s ears delicately. “I don’t believe they’ll mind at all.”

Thor raised an eyebrow. He caught that devilish glimpse, as sharp as a blade to the throat. A blade with a flower-printed handle; something to make the women gush, and the poor man with the steel to his throat shiver in his garments.

Admittedly, Fandral made for a wonderful eye-wear against the harsh moonlight.

**

“Wake up, you buffoon!”

Thor startled to life as a shoe hit his face. At the end of the bed stood Loki, eyes half-lidded and foot tapping against the wooden floor in an annoying expectancy. Beside him, a large and furry beast pressed its moist noise against the wooden frame.

Wait, what?

“I have added a hyena to my collection,” explained Loki.

“You never cease to surprise me,” Thor said slowly. “Dare I ask where you stole this beast from?”

“You would talk about Lady Sif in such a manner? Unfathomable…”

The hyena laughed and Thor was certain it was directed at him. “Please tell me this is the last pet you intend to bring home.”

“Perhaps,” Loki said. It was not comforting. “Anyhow, Sif is far too dangerous to keep in the house. I will ask Hogun to house her; he is so utterly boring that I have no doubt all of her energy will be sapped from her very bones after one night.” He smoothed a hand down the hyena’s thick, wiry neck. “You will care for Fandral and Volstagg in my presence, won’t you?”

Thor brought his attention to the bundle beside him, a lump of feathers topped with a small furry line. He was almost envious at how peacefully they slept on. He cast Loki a half-mustered glare.

“And you suppose Sif will be happy you’ve stolen her name?”

Loki’s eyes gleamed something fearsome. “She will be simply overjoyed.” He then waved his hand, an artificial breeze easily knocking the door open as a thick collar strung itself around the poor hyena’s throat. “I’ll be going now. Enjoy yourself!” 

The collar’s tag chimed a comical tune.

A mere hour after Loki’s leave, Thor had dipped into the kitchen to seek out an early snack, only to have his attention drawn to investigate the rather loud arguing coming from his bedroom.

“_You_ were on top of me!”

“I’d do no such thing! I’d sooner sleep with a hog than the likes of you, no matter how scarce the difference!”

Thor stood at the doorway with half a waffle blanketing his lip. He blinked once, then twice, then thrice, and shut the door behind him as he slipped into the room. “Friends,” he swallowed the remainder of his tasty treat as he greeted them.

“Thor!” Volstagg and Fandral cried, both stark naked on his bed.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had transpired.

It turned out they had no memories of their furry, or feathery, counterparts – it had taken some quick words to convince Volstagg he had not simply eaten himself in a horrible coma. Fandral had appeared mildly insulted at his choice of animal. Thor assured him he would have made a fine stallion, had Loki been feeling kind.

“I wonder if Sif has bitten his head off,” said Fandral as the three sat along the edge of the home porch, Thor graciously offering to make them waffles of their own, and wrapping them up in two of his finest pink robes.

“She seemed rather tame as a hyena,” Thor replied, popping a strawberry into his mouth.

Volstagg snorted from beside him. “I don’t believe he was talking about the hyena.”

“Your brother is a puzzle, Thor,” Fandral sighed. “What could possibly come out of this? All it’s done has hindered our errands.”

“Not by much,” Thor amended. “Perhaps he is just lonely? I could get him a cat.”

“Loki is a handful himself, and you’d add a pesky cat to that list?”

It was a fair argument. Volstagg slapped him on the shoulder and laughed.

**

It was well past midnight when Loki returned, the only indication being the bright flash of green that stirred Thor from his royal slumber. It was better than a shoe, he supposed.

“Your head is still in tact,” he said, blinking the blur from his eyes.

“What?” Loki asked, quietly and wearily, as he slipped under the covers and nestled into Thor’s back, head tucked between his shoulder-blades.

“Sif,” Thor explained lazily as he rolled over to embosom the slender figure in his arms, resting his chin atop the dark head. It was rare that Loki would be sleepy enough to cuddle, and it had been so many years that he would be a fool to not take advantage of it. 

“Ah, yes...” Loki chuckled to himself, flavoured with a childish excitement. “Hogun saw much of Lady Sif today.” Thor dared not ask for more.

Loki was cold in his arms, and he wondered if he felt it, from the way he nuzzled the bridge of his nose into Thor’s collar. He ran his fingers through his, thankfully, clean strands of hair. It was far better than that state he had taken on his first visit to Midgard.

“…hug....”

Loki’s murmurs died off in favour of a soft, airy snore. Thor gave his shoulders a gentle squeeze, to quell the nostalgia in his belly and ease the energy in his veins. No more anxiety, no more wondering. It had been too long since he had embraced his brother.

And it had been far too long since he’d bore witness to a genuine, playful trick from the God of Mischief.


End file.
